Reincarnated as a Genius Mage-Chapter 48: Step one

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The air smelled of smoke, blood, and rotten corpse. The ground was dyed with dried blood. The air that blew was hot, and the sun was even hotter.

They had fought, pushing the enemies into a brief retreat. But they knew— they’d still come back. They always did.

The Orcs were ferocious creatures. Born with the innate ability of combat.

Their bodies adapted to their way of living— combat, and war. The solution to their problems was combat, and the answer to their questions was war.

To be strong in the kingdom of the Orcs was to be highly proficient in combat.

But even as combat and war minded as they were— they only fought inter tribal wars.

They conquered themselves, while being faithful to the Human/Demi-human alliance treaty.

That was until Keranus— an Orc born with red skin, and a lean body, who was laughed at and mocked for being weak— suddenly grew in size, and strength— Fought, and claimed the territory of every Orcan tribe. He united the Orcs into one strong military kingdom.

And with his new found strength, he broke the treaty— seeking to advance from the Ancient Equator Elyrus, that ancient forest that divided the four continents of the world. The Orc sought to conquer the world.

And as their ranks grew, so did their numbers. The first continent they attacked was Levaria, the southern continent.

But then, they were met with great dismay when they discovered that all the Empires and Kingdoms in Levaria had joined hands in a war against them— stopping them from crossing the boundary between Elyrus and Levaria.

This war had been ongoing for decades. It became a rite of passage for the children of noble families. The ones who had graduated from the various Imperial Academies— they would be sent as soldiers to the battlefield to earn merits, and never to leave until they had reached a certain level.

All the nobles in all the Kingdoms and Empires of Levaria went through this. Including Alexander Von Flameworth, the Duke of the West. Even the Dukes of the North, South, East. They all went through this war.

Mercenaries from B rank and above could join the battle against the Orcs, earn merits, rewards, money, fame. You could name it all.

The invasion of the Orcs became such a thing to the continent of Levaria. But still, Keranus the Orcan King never gave up on his deadly endeavors, and the war with no end in sight still rages on.

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Inside a particular tent set up on the boundary between the Elyrus forest and a Levarian great wall— the area where those of the Jalozi Empire set up their tents— a man rested; sitting down on a soft chair. His head was low, and his body was immensely fatigued.

He sighed, and he massaged his aching forehead with his fingers.

When is this all going to be over? He thought to himself.

He had been on the battlefield for eight years. And in those eight years— not once had he rested.

We pushed those Orcan bastards back today. This victory.. it’s— we’re finally a few steps away from decimating them.

His thoughts were put to a halt when a figure rushed inside his tent abruptly.

"–Huff– –Huff– Young Lord!" The figure cried out, his back was bent, and his hands were on his knees as he breathed heavily.

Slowly, the man lifted his head— focusing his gaze on the figure that rushed in.

"Alberto, what is it? What news do you bring?" His voice was low but commanding, rough but calm.

And Alberto, his right hand man gazed at him— peering into the blood red crimson eyes of his Young Lord. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of otherworldly strength permeate from His Young Lord as the sun light leaking in from the small parchment above the tent showered on his blood red hair, casting a captivating sight.

"Young Lord. The Emperor.. they say he’s making his way here. They say he’s coming to observe the status of the war personally." Alberto spoke in a firm voice that contained a subtle hint of surprise.

"The Emperor? But why?" The Young Lord asked. Surprised by this new information. His eyes widened, brows furrowed, and his nose scrunched.

"I.. I don’t know my Lord. It has never happened before. I think it’s because of the Five S– rank mercenaries from the Gislow Mercenary guild that left to the Empire. Maybe.. maybe the Emperor grew curious as they reported the status of the war to him." Alberto revealed.

The Young Lord’s brows arched, and his thoughts wandered.

What could this mean? He thought to himself.

But, he quickly shrugged it off. There was no cause for alarm anyway. They had won five battles in a row these past few months against the Orcs, and they’d reclaimed four stolen Jalozian territories. They had even managed to kill an Orcan general.

"I have heard your message, Alberto. Thank you. You will be rewarded." The Young Lord said, his voice was stern, but graceful.

Alberto bowed his head, his armor clinking on the ground as he knelt with one knee.

"Now go." The Young Lord said. "Go and tell our commander. Tell him that I, George Petin Flameworth, have completed my mission." He said firmly. His voice; commanding, and resolute.

Alberto stood up quietly, and nodded, "It is by your will, Young Lord." And he walked out.

I am tired of all this. But. It is necessary. Yes, it’s necessary for my plans, for my goals. So I have to endure.. this is only the first step. He thought to himself, consoling his bitter heart that ached for home as he watched his right hand man leave.

"But still, I wonder how that witch of a mother is doing. I wonder if Father is still lusting on cakes. And I can’t wait to see how that little brat Jiley must have grown. I think he should be in the academy by now? Hmm. I’m not sure." He muttered to himself as he scratched an itch on his jaw, his head was raised upward— red eyes taking in the rays of sunlight creaking in through the small hole on his tent.

I’ll see them all soon. This is just step one of my plan. To become the Patriarch of the Flameworths. Yes.. step one. Step...

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